Honoring an educator

Thursday

Jun 20, 2013 at 6:00 AM

By Michael D. Kane BANNER EDITOR

It was an emotional day at Major Edwards Elementary School last Thursday as dozens of friends and relatives of longtime school librarian Ann Marie Richardson were on hand to honor her memory during the official dedication of the school's library in her name.

“Ann Marie Richardson was literally a one in a million person,” former Principal Thomas Caruso said. “She did so much for this school and this town.”

Caruso was among parents and family who remembered the longtime presence at Major Edwards for her energy, her dedication and, most of all, her love for the children.

“She was tireless in her commitment to the children,” parent Pam Doonan said. “The bonds that Ann Marie forged with many of the children will be remembered for years to come.”

“She was always there to greet them, mentor them and help them with reading and a multitude of other things,” Donoon said. “She was often the recipient of visits from her former students stopping in to say hello and reminisce. She always had time to talk to them and share in their successes.”

Doonan and parent Carrie Wattu were among those parents who helped organize the drive to rename the library in Richardson's name that started with a few dozen parents after her retirement two years ago. That effort more than doubled after Richardson's death one day before the first day of school last August, Wattu noted, with around 100 parents writing letters to and attending a meeting of the School Committee to request the dedication.

The reason for that kind of support became apparent to even those who did not work with Richardson. Both Superintendent Elizabeth Schaper and current Principal Marjorie McCarthy officially started after Richardson's retirement, but were hired while she was still with the district.

McCarthy noted she called the school to ask for information about the Edwards Avid Reader program that Richardson started and ran until her retirement.

“That one phone call clearly defined for me that person you all love and dearly miss,” McCarthy said.

Schaper said the “letters upon letter that poured in” from parents help define what was special about Richardson.

“Ann Marie, you see, was apparently much more than just a regular school librarian,” Schaper said. “She was, from every report, incredibly full of love.

“This library – her library – was a place of comfort and support to countless students and their families,” Schaper said. “They knew it as a place of love. (By naming the library in her honor) We allow this room to continue to embrace the students here with the warmth and love that Ann Marie blessed it with for so many years.”

Wattu, who noted that even in retirement Richardson had given out her cell phone and invited parents to visit her at her summer home in Maine, said Richardson scoffed at the idea of a retirement party when it had been suggested by parents eager to show their appreciation.

“When someone suggested that we name Major Edwards' library as the Richardson Library we knew we had found the best gift to give Ann Marie,” Wattu said. “Our goal was to invite Ann Marie to cut the ribbon and enjoy the honor.”

Wattu, like others last week, talked about the bond Richardson formed with every child at Major Edwards.

“Without exception, everyone felt like Ann Marie was their special friend,” she said.

Parent Lisa Fallavollita echoed those sentiments, noting Richardson made good use of parent volunteers so she could spend extra time with the children.

“She always made each one of them special,” she said, noting the parent volunteer program Richardson started had an ulterior motive as well.

Richardson, who tried to instill a sense of giving back to the community in the students knew that children seeing their parents helping in the library would assist in that effort. In school, she often found ways for older students to help their younger peers in the library.

“Somehow, she always found a place for any student who wanted to volunteer,” Fallavollita said. “We're hoping that her spirit will continue by naming the library after her.”

Richardson was also known for her duties in the pick-up and drop-off line, a duty most teachers shunned, Caruso said. But, for Richardson, it allowed her to greet the students every morning.

“And every child was met with a smile and a good morning,” parent Tracey Mattison said.

Caruso got laughs when he noted Richardson greeted every child not only by name, but with details, like asking about upcoming tests or sports events.

“She was absolutely phenomenal with kids,” Caruso said. “She would interact with each one on a very personal level – every single one. And I would be standing there going, “what was the name of that kid? ”

But she could also be firm, as parent and Red Sox artist Mark Waitkus found out when he first moved to town and drove into the drop-off line both late and in the wrong direction, an admission that brought an audible response, then a laugh from the crowd. But Waitkus was quickly able to find common ground with Richardson through her love of baseball and could always strike up a conversation with her about sports or parenting, he said.

Caruso also read a statement from former Superintendent Leon Sullivan, who worked with Richardson for 20 years. In his statement, he noted Richardson made a great impact on the many people whose lives she touched.

“When I arrived in 1981, she was one of the first persons I met,” Sullivan wrote. “ She made a wonderful first impression with her genuine warmth and seemingly irrepressible manor … it was apparent to me in her very first year this was a person who had much to offer and a person for whom a larger role needed to be found.

“Her learning environment was safe and secure, and children found not only the content they needed, but the positive reinforcement and the emotional support to allow them to stretch their learning,” he wrote. “You've never seen a happier place than Ann Marie's … library. Students were engaged, joyful but none more so than she.

Caruso said he and Richardson became good friends. He could go to her for advice, and teachers often asked Richardson to approach “the ogre in the corner office” when they were unhappy with one of his decisions.

And when it came to getting something done, Richardson lived by the motto that “those who say it can't be done need to get out of the way so those who can get it done, can do it.”

“I admired her, I respected her, and she was always someone I could count on, the school could count on and the kids could count on,” Caruso said. “On a personal level, I miss her terribly. She was a true friend and I'll always be grateful of having been part of her life. I will cherish those memories.”

Like Caruso, teacher Sally Holden said she and other staff members knew they could always turn to Richardson for advice, “even if she was multi-tasking. Which seemed to be all the time.”

“She was genuinely full of life, and when she spoke, the students believed her,” Holden said.

In summing up the evening, Richardson's son Matt recounted the story of how his mother attended a Pop Warner game with his family, and within minutes was surrounded by the siblings of players, reading them stories and keeping them entertained.

“The fact that they did not know her, or would never see her again really didn't matter,” he said. “She just had a natural way of caring for kids. That was her gift, and she chose for so many years to give it to West Boylston.”